Let No Man Put Asunder
by JadeSelena
Summary: Sequel to 'God Help Her' so Dov/Gail established but still new. Follows the events of season 3 (with some changes to canon due to the history set in God Help Her). Rated T just in case. Synopsis: Still not entirely past the Chris thing, will their relationship be able to withstand having Nick around, too?
1. Chapter 1

**So I couldn't help myself and had to move forward with this little sequel to _God Help Her_. It picks up a couple of weeks after the conclusion of that story (Dov and Gail are together [for now muahaha]) and will follow the events of season 3 of the show. I really hate going against canon but I kinda screwed myself with the backstory I had given Gail (wrt how to write Nick in) so you'll just have to bear with me and go with the flow. Hopefully most of you have forgotten the show's canon by now and it doesn't matter lol Except I will happily and proudly go against the canon that says Nick's name is Collins and he was part of Gail's past but is not related to the Chief (unless they changed that in later seasons when I wasn't watching) because it never made sense to me. I am also introducing Nick earlier in the season (before Andy gets back) because I hate 3-month time lapses and it works better for me.**

 **I'm not particularly religious but I was looking for a title and decided to continue the theme set by _God Help Her_. Assuming he/she *did* help Gail, just not in the way she'd wanted, this is taken from the verse 'What God has joined together let no man put asunder.' Oops... spoiler alert ;)**

 **I hope you enjoy the fruits of my continued obsession with Gail Peck!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; if I did I would have done something very different with them.**

* * *

"Just how long are you planning on keeping this up?"

Gail glanced up from her hand to acknowledge Traci's approach. "I don't know. I figure the relationship has what?" She looked to Dov as though for his opinion. "Two good weeks left in it?" Immediately shrugged back at the other girl, "Give or take a few days."

Dov and Traci rolled their eyes in unison.

"I meant coming in early so Chris doesn't see you show up together." Traci motioned to the cards laid out between them on the car. "And playing games you hate just to pass the time."

"I know what you meant, Nash." Had answered accordingly, if not directly. "Dov's still trying to find something he can beat me at." Showing him her winning hand Gail grinned and threw it on top of the pile, then unfolded her legs to recline on the hood.

With an exaggerated sigh Dov tossed his cards onto hers.

Traci got her meaning but didn't really _get_ it. "Chris has known for weeks, Gail; you told him yourself."

And it was among the top three hardest conversations she'd ever had to have. "Knowing is _abstract_ ," she explained with a patronizing wave. "Easier to handle because it's easier to dismiss. Irrefutable proof being shoved in your face is a lot more painful because you can't really ignore it. That's why if you want someone to really suffer you don't just tell them, you _show_ them." Like those annoying commercials with the emaciated children or the mistreated animals, designed specifically to shame and upset sheeple into donating money.

 _Of course_ his girlfriend's argument was based on deconstructing how to make people suffer _…_ "Who would've thought that one day you would use your expansive knowledge of manipulation for good instead of evil?"

It was Gail's turn to roll her eyes. "Whatever. But last I checked _I_ was supposed to be the insensitive one…"

Traci's forehead furrowed. "I guess I never had to worry about that with Dex." Although she hadn't thought anything of him having to see Jerry sometimes when picking up Leo, either… "Wait – how _did_ the Ice Queen get to be the considerate one?"

"I like to think it's my influence," Dov volunteered jokingly.

Only if he meant that his presence in her life had made it _necessary_ … "Relax, Trace – your 'most considerate' title is safe, as is my 'most selfish' one. I'm only saving myself from having to see that look on his face ever again." And if it had hurt her that much to see it she could only imagine how much pain he'd have been in to _give_ it.

Dov recognized it for the deflection it was; would have made some gesture of comfort if not for the familiar truck that had turned into the parking lot.

"So you're just going to keep 'hiding' it from him?" Traci wondered, voice lowered even though Chris had yet to emerge from his vehicle. "What if he needs to see it _to_ move on?" She worried that him being able to dismiss it wouldn't help _anyone_ involved, least of all him.

Feigning a light bulb moment Gail snapped her fingers. " _Or_ , bear with me here, you could just hurry up and start introducing him to your little girlfriends already." Her sole objective was for it to stop hurting him (so she could stop feeling guilty, of course), and the wound wouldn't heal if salt was constantly being poured into it… "I'd set him up myself but, you know, double-dating this soon would be a little awkward."

"Right," Traci scoffed, " _Timing_ is the problem with that plan." And not the fact that she didn't _have_ other friends, much less girl ones.

Gail gave her a look of sheer disappointment. "That's the joke, Nash. You didn't get it. Bad job."

Traci rolled her eyes. "Or maybe the joke's not that great if it has to be _explained_ …" It wasn't her fault Peck was so ridiculously good at 'deadpan' and couldn't always be expected to be self-aware…

"What joke?" Chris asked as he joined them.

Not trusting Traci to come up with something plausible Gail answered in her stead: "That one I told you yesterday about the kookaburra and the banana leaf."

"Oh, yeah," Chris chuckled, remembering. "That was hilarious. _Coconuts!_ "

Gail smirked at Traci; condescended, "See? Chris got it."

Traci bit her tongue – as the blonde had doubtless known she would because she wasn't a vindictive _wench_ – and changed the subject. "So I talked to Andy last night. She's going crazy planning all this stuff for our trip. Camping, canoeing…"

" _K_ -ill me now," Gail cut in. "She knows we're only crashing her exile for three days, right?"

" _Self-imposed_ exile," Traci corrected, then noted the judgmental brow. "What? It's an important distinction." She was actually proud of Andy for removing herself from the situation to avoid the temptation.

Gail rolled her eyes; refrained from pointing out that the suspension precipitating the exile was very much _not_ voluntary. And that the brunette was only delaying the inevitable.

"That stuff sounds like fun," Chris lamented, "How come we don't get to come?"

Traci gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Girls' trip." They hadn't needed Gail to tell them that inviting the guys – on what would then become her and Dov's first trip as a couple – would have been a monumentally _bad_ idea.

"You can take my place," Gail offered facetiously, "If I'm lucky I'll be dead by then." How she'd gotten roped into it to begin with she _still_ didn't know (something about being supportive and encouraging and _blah blah blah_ ), but she sure hoped it went better than 'Girls' _Night'_ had.

Her casual reference to dying made Dov flinch. "Well, today just might be your lucky day."

No enemy to passive-aggressiveness, it was the over-protectiveness that really set Gail's teeth on edge. "Yeah – _might be._ "

Dov swallowed his next comment, well aware he probably wouldn't be so annoyingly neurotic about these things if she weren't so frustratingly _cavalier_ about them.

Glancing between them Traci tried to figure out the source of the sudden tension; realized, "The ride-along's today…"

Gail nodded. "And the Chief called to say his brother can't make it so they're sending someone else."

Which explained why Dov was less than thrilled about it... "Do you even know who?"

"It'll be _fine,"_ Gail asserted, less than kindly. "Where's all this concern when I'm stuck with Trouble-Magnet McNally for a partner?"

Traci sighed but said nothing, accepting it for the rhetorical question it was.

"Well, to begin with Andy is trained and has her own weapon," Dov pointed out.

 _For all the good that's done her…_ "I can give him a gun, too, if that'll make you feel better." Gail's tone was patronizingly sweet.

Chris would have advised Dov to quit while he was ahead – this battle especially was not one he was going to win – but that would require acknowledging their relationship (and wanting to _help_ it). "So what are we going to do while the women-folk are in North Bay?"

As grateful as Traci was for the non-sequitur… " _Women-folk_?"

"You could go to a strip club," Gail suggested, just to see Chris' face turn red. "Get your ya-yas out."

"Gail!"

"I'm kidding, Chris. You know if you guys are going to a strip club I want in." Her attention was drawn from his heated cheeks to a motorcycle that had come to a stop just in front of her car. "What? You hear 'strip club' and you want to join the conversation? Keep it moving, creeper." But instead of complying the figure removed its helmet.

"Is that any way to talk to the guy who paid a shitload of money to spend time with you?"

Gail's mouth fell open. "Nick?"

Placing his helmet on the back of the bike Nick kicked out the stand and dismounted. "Okay, so I didn't shell out the money _myself_ – the army doesn't pay that well – but I'm sure it came out of my inheritance somehow."

 _Oh my God…_ Gail slid off the hood and into his open arms. "What are you doing here?"

The others exchanged a baffled glance.

Nick held her tightly, chin resting atop her head. "Something about a day I'm never going to forget?" Though most days with her _were._

Dov's brain struggled to process what was happening. "You're here for the ride-along?"

"Yeah." She made no move to let him go and Nick had no interest in dislodging her.

" _Ahem_ ," Traci cleared her throat.

"Oh, uh…" Gail broke the hug and turned to the others. "Nick Collins. Traci Nash, Chris Diaz, Dov Epstein."

Chris automatically held out his hand. "Collins? Like Chief Collins?"

Nick shook the proffered hand, his other arm still around Gail's shoulders. "He's my uncle. Well, adopted uncle – his brother's family took me in when I lost my parents."

"That sucks." Realizing how it sounded Chris clarified, "That you lost your parents, not that they took you in."

"Yeah, I got that," Nick chuckled.

"I hate to break up this little reunion," Traci lied, "but we're going to be late to parade." And she now had a cagey blonde to grill…

Gail smirked up at Nick. "You planning on parking that thing? You see, how this works is we take a _cruiser_ to fight crime and transpo the bad guys…"

"Didn't you always want to be a motorcycle cop?" Nick 'remembered.' "Wind in your hair, sun on your face…"

"Bugs in my teeth?" Gail supplied in disgust. "Yeah, _no_. Thanks."

Giving her a wink Nick started to walk his bike to a free spot.

"Someone grab my stuff," Gail instructed before taking off after him.

"Sure, your highness. We live to serve," Traci automatically snarked. Was of course ignored.

By the time Dov gathered the cards and hopped off the car Chris was already emerging from the back seat with Gail's garment bag and duffel.

Chris shrugged at his friend's questioning eyebrow. _Old habits die hard._

Watching the blonde jump up onto the newcomer's back – and him grab her legs to keep her there – Traci's eyebrow did its _own_ impression of a mountain peak. "Uh... she ever mention him to you guys?"

Dov shook his head.

"No," Chris offered as they began to follow the pair. "Her mother mentioned a 'Nick' a few times but I thought he was just some ex. I had no idea he was related to the Chief."

That didn't make Dov feel any better, though Chris seemed to be sufficiently impressed.

"Come on, slowpokes!" Gail called out over her shoulder just before the door closed behind them. Within minutes of entering the booking room they came upon Frank and she allowed her feet to return to the floor. "Sir, this is Nick Collins. He's here for the…"

"I know who he is," Frank interrupted, accepting the younger man's hand to shake. "Welcome to the 15, Nick. We're lucky to have you."

Nick felt Gail stiffen beside him; braced himself for her reaction. "Well, you don't have me yet," he told his future SS with a strained smile. "Still a month or so left until graduation."

 _Have you? Graduation?_ "What the hell is going on?" In her mounting confusion Gail barely registered the others joining them.

Knowing how close their families were Frank didn't understand why Peck seemed to be so out of the loop. "Everyone, please welcome Nick Collins, the 15's newest rookie."

Any relief Dov felt that she would be riding with a cadet was nullified by the fact that it was _this_ cadet…

 _Newest rookie?_ Giving Nick a withering look, equal parts anger and betrayal, Gail folded her arms over her chest and demanded, "Just how long have you been back?"

Nick flinched inwardly, having hoped to have this conversation later and without quite so many spectators, but knowing it would be infinitely worse if he lied. "Since last spring."

Gail's stomach dropped but she embraced the rage. "You've been back a year and I'm just _now_ finding out?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I was going to wait until my first day but then this popped up…" Nick trailed off, realizing he had in no way helped his case by admitting he had planned to keep it from her for another month.

 _Well, that was a quick honeymoon_ Dov thought as he took in the exchange. Beside him Traci looked like she was just missing a bucket of popcorn and Chris seemed anxious, like he was anticipating having to step in.

"You are _so_ lucky my boss is standing right there," Gail informed him through grit teeth.

Nick could only imagine; was still surprised he hadn't been punched on sight.

"Don't you guys have somewhere to be?" Frank prodded the onlookers, wondering if he'd signed himself up for some _new_ round of fresh hell when the last had only just ended. "Peck, you still need to be in uniform."

His tone was gentle but it did nothing to soothe her. "We are not done talking about this," she threatened Nick with a low growl and a menacing finger.

Nick schooled his features free of amusement – God, he'd missed his little Gustnado – and nodded with appropriate solemnity.

"How's that day you'll never forget looking _now_?" Despite Dov's best efforts a small amount of gloating had seeped into his voice.

Dropping all pretenses Nick clapped the guy on the shoulder and gave him a cocky wink. "Not my first time at the Gail rodeo, my friend, but your concern is touching."

Dov's smile vanished at the evoked images.

Neither one was spared Gail's death glare as she grabbed her bags from Chris before storming off to the locker room.

" _Soooo_ ," Traci wasted no time in venturing as soon as the door had swished to a close behind them, "What up with that?"

"Un-fucking-believable," Gail griped, slamming open her locker door to start getting changed. "Gone five years then shows up out of the blue on that stupid little bike like some _Grease 2_ T-Bird wannabe and he's actually been back _a year_." How fucking _dare_ he?!

Traci suspected the blonde was rambling to herself because everyone there (and possibly everyone in the building by now) had already gotten _that_ part. "Yeah, but who _is_ he?"

Gail broke free of her internal rampage to chastise, "I _told_ you _._ " Maybe Nick wasn't the only one suffering from amnesia.

"Who is he to _you_ , Gail," Traci spelled out, pulling on her uniform shirt.

 _And the inquisition begins…_ "Not that it's any of your business but we've never been together."

Traci paused in doing up her buttons, surprised. "You telling me you never hit that delicious hunk of man-meat?"

"Of course I did," Gail scoffed as she did up her pants, "I'm anti-social, not brain-dead. But we were never a couple." Which is what she'd assumed that question had been aimed at finding out.

Silly Traci for forgetting the girl subscribed to the Bill Clinton School of Words with Very Narrow Definitions… "You know, most people would consider 'never been together' to also mean sexually."

Most people were still suburban enough to think you had to be together to be 'together;' Gail had never put much stock in what 'most' thought. "Together implies a commitment beyond getting each other off. Chris and I were together; Nick and I experimented as teenagers."

" _Just_ as teenagers?" The blonde wasn't about to get Traci on another semantical technicality.

Well, after a while it could no longer be classified as experimenting, could it? "Get to your point, Nash." Gail's patience was incredibly thin at the moment.

Traci was going to take that as a 'no.' "How come you were never together?" That was the most unabashedly _something_ (affectionate? intimate? unreserved? all of the above?) she'd ever seen Gail be with _anyone_ and it just didn't make sense. _Especially_ if they'd already been sleeping together.

Gail rolled her eyes. "I know it offends your 'fairy-tale romance' view of the world but it _is_ possible for people to have sex without being in love."

"What?" Speaking of things that didn't make sense…

Seeing the other girl's puzzled look Gail lifted her shoulders in an unapologetic shrug. "Sorry. Forgot you weren't Andy there for a second."

 _Or_ that was an attempt at diversion… "That wasn't an answer, Gail."

 _Ugh…_ "You think I was anti-social when I hit the 15?" she posed rhetorically and with no small amount of disdain. "Even if I _was_ down for a relationship – which I was _not_ – he was like the closest thing I had to a friend. The thought never even crossed my mind."

She seemed to be telling the truth but Traci couldn't shake the gnawing suspicion that there was more to the story. "So what happened?"

Gail blew out a huff of annoyed air as she inserted her bobby pins with more force than was absolutely necessary. "He enlisted. Needed to find himself or some shit."

"Oh." Unsure where to go from there Traci stated the obvious: "And now he's back."

"And now he's back," Gail repeated flatly.

Traci had another question – one regarding his _intentions_ – but it was clear that the answer didn't lie with her friend. Still, she had to ask, "Is it gonna be a problem?"

"Depends. If his excuse really sucks you might have to arrest me for murder." That would probably constitute a problem…

Either the blonde had intentionally misunderstood the [admittedly vague] question, or it was just such a non-issue for her that she hadn't even clued in to what the real question _was_. "And if it _doesn't_ suck?"

Gail shut her locker with a resounding clang, hard-pressed to think of a reason he could possibly give that she would find in any way acceptable. "In that _very_ unlikely event? I guess I'll let him live. But he'll still have a hell of a lot of groveling to do before he even gets to see the _turnoff_ for my good graces again."

It wasn't all that long ago that Dov had been so far outside her good graces he'd been in 'dead to her' land, or that the thought of being with _him_ had yet to cross her mind either… All things considered Traci had a really bad feeling about this, and she could only hope that this sense of foreboding (curse her great instincts) didn't turn into a case of déjà vu…

* * *

 **So how'd you like it? Feel bad for Dov already?**

 **Gustnado: A short-lived, shallow surface-based vortex which forms within the downburst emanating from a thunderstorm. Has more in common with a whirlwind than a tornado. While injuries or deaths are rare from gustnadoes, strong ones can cause damage and they are hazardous to drivers... Basically Nick calling her Gustnado Gail is calling her out on her (mostly) 'all bark, no bite' persona.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi all. Just to reiterate, this _is_ a Peckstein story. That isn't to say there won't be bumps and road blocks but I promise it will end Peckstein. I did not spend multiple years on God Help Her for that not to be end game lol That being said, fair warning that I can still have fun with them (and Nick) along the way ;)**

* * *

 **Previously:**

Traci had another question – one regarding Nick's _intentions_ – but it was clear that the answer didn't lie with her friend. Still, she had to ask, "Is it gonna be a problem?"

"Depends. If his excuse really sucks you might have to arrest me for murder." That would probably constitute a problem…

Either the blonde had intentionally misunderstood the [admittedly vague] question, or it was just such a non-issue for her that she hadn't even clued in to what the real question _was_. "And if it _doesn't_ suck?"

Gail shut her locker with a resounding clang, hard-pressed to think of a reason he could possibly give that she would find in any way acceptable. "In that _very_ unlikely event? I guess I'll let him live. But he'll still have a hell of a lot of groveling to do before he even gets to see the _turnoff_ for my good graces again."

It wasn't all that long ago that Dov had been so far outside her good graces he'd been in 'dead to her' land, or that the thought of being with _him_ had yet to cross her mind either… All things considered Traci had a really bad feeling about this, and she could only hope that this sense of foreboding (damn her great instincts) didn't turn into a case of déjà vu…

* * *

 **Now:**

Gail snuck into the Tac room, finger to her lips so the exiting Jackson wouldn't announce her presence. Approaching Dov from behind she sent her fingers gliding over his waist and up his abs.

"Jesus!" Dov huffed, jumping at the unexpected contact. "Gail?"

"Who else?" she wondered as he turned in her arms. "On a completely unrelated note, I'm not opposed to sharing as long as I'm invited. Just an FYI..."

Dov rolled his eyes, then darted them to the open doorway while he accepted her kiss. "What about Chris?"

Settling back on her heels Gail hooked one thumb in his belt and set the other to wiping his bottom lip of evidence. "I mean, I guess I could ask him but I kinda feel like if it didn't happen when we were all living together it's probably not gonna."

Her cheeky little shrug did nothing to lessen the pain and discomfort of that particular mental image. " _Gail_ …"

She dropped her hand to his chest and gave him a quasi-apologetic smile. "Too soon?"

"Yeah…" His grip tightened on her hips as though for emphasis. "Little bit."

Then he _really_ needed to stop setting her up perfectly like that… "Traci is running interference so I can say bye. You know, just in case I _do_ die today." Her tone made it clear how likely she thought _that_ was.

If she couldn't even pretend to take his feelings seriously Dov wished she would at least refrain from _poking_ at them. "Am I supposed to be grateful?"

"God, no – it wasn't _my_ idea." Like there was any doubt… "But Traci said I'm a big fat meanie and how would I feel if I left it like that and something _did_ happen." 'I won't feel _anything_ – I'll be dead,' had been her automatic retort, to which Traci had replied, 'Fine – how will _Dov_ feel?' and then Gail had groaned loudly (while mentally stomping her foot) and begrudgingly given in. "I'm not sure when she became your personal champion, by the way, but you're definitely getting her in the divorce."

It was so petulant that Dov had to laugh. "Her choice or yours?"

"Hers." Not that Gail wanted her… "Chris'll be torn but ultimately he'll pick me, because reasons. And Andy'll insist on joint custody and everything staying amicable."

Dov quirked an eyebrow. "Should I be concerned by how much thought you've put into this?" Or that it was her second reference to breaking up in the last hour?

"That was just off the top of my head," she assured him, tracing soothing patterns in the fabric beneath her fingers. "But you do get that you're overreacting, right? There's only one of us here that trouble seems to find on the regular and you don't see _me_ freaking out every time you leave the house."

" _Nice_." He knew she was just stating the facts as she saw them – that in her mind she was being _reassuring_ even – but for someone who swore she didn't see him as a screw-up she sure brought it up in her arguments a lot.

The only thing Gail hated more than the over-protectiveness was the hypocrisy of him feeling free to outright question her decisions – without cause, under the guise of loving her – while taking anything _she_ said, no matter how offhand or _accurate_ , as a personal attack. But she told herself that if he could put up with _her_ less than desirable qualities – dubious sense of humor and lack of a sensitivity chip chief amongst them – then she could make allowances for his abandonment and inadequacy issues… "Dov, there's no point worrying about shit that 99% won't even happen." Leaning into him she purred, "I prefer to save my limited energy for far more pleasurable things…"

Dov instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her to him. Not wanting to waste what little time they had fighting, he gave in with a sigh. "Can you at least promise me you'll be careful so I'm not saving all that energy up for nothing?"

It took everything Gail had to not point out that her name was neither 'Dov' nor 'Andy' and so the request was unnecessary bordering on insulting. "You know I'm way too attached to my body to _not_ be," she offered instead, giving him a saucy wink. "But I'll do you one better: if careful doesn't work I'll just use Collins as a human shield."

Joke or not, that prospect probably shouldn't have made Dov as happy as it did… "You're going to make it look like an accident, though, right?" A manslaughter charge was better than dead, but still…

Who did he think he was talking to? " _Duh_. And if I learned anything from all those years shadowing my mother it's what _not_ to do in a cover up." It was amazing how many cops were just as dumb, or as _lazy_ , as common criminals.

Maybe Elaine's hyper-tutelage was good for something after all. Although… "If you _do_ go to prison we'd have to be married to get conjugal visits…"

Gail's eyebrow lifted, more amusement than censure. "Are you seriously hoping I get locked up just so I agree to marry you?" That was certainly a new one.

" _If_ you go to prison," Dov reiterated with an overly-innocent shrug. "Silver lining."

 _Right…_ He was enjoying this little hypothetical a tad too much, but if it kept his mind off of worrying… "Fine. _If_ I'm going to prison I'll marry you."

Dov threw his arms up in the air. "Everything's coming up Milhouse!"

"Don't get too excited," she warned, rolling her eyes (mostly) affectionately and patting his cheek. "I reserve the right to do whatever I have to on the inside to establish my power base. No way I'm gonna end up someone else's bitch."

" _Romantic_ ," he deadpanned, returning his arms to her waist. "You gonna work that into your vows somehow?"

Hand still on his cheek she gazed up into his eyes. "'Dov, just know that even though over the next five to ten my nights will belong to my enforcer, Big Bertha, my heart will still belong to you.'"

"Aw…" Dov wiped away an imaginary tear; sniffed, "That just might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

He joked but it was probably true – she liked to keep the bar low so it was easy to clear. Manage expectations and all that… "But let's be real here: I'm a rich white well-connected lady-cop with a clean record; even if I _do_ get caught I'm never going to see any jail time." If not for the 'Collins' thing she might even get to keep her badge.

As depressing an indictment of society as that was, he suspected she was right. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to convince you then."

Oh, Gail had no doubt he'd try… "Good luck with that. Now if we're done fantasizing murder, marriage, and miscarriages of justice…" Glancing at the clock on the wall she put her arms around his neck and rose up onto the balls of her feet. "We have about a minute left for making out."

Dov grinned. "You sure have a strange idea of foreplay…"

"You complaining?" she breathed against his mouth.

"Nope."

* * *

Gail pushed through the door to the parking lot, her fury reignited by having to listen to Frank talk Nick up to everyone in parade. "I should make you sit in the back." Or better yet, the _trunk_.

"But then you'd have to yell at me through the rearview and where's the fun in that?" Nick's face fell and he came to an abrupt stop when she spun around with a clenched fist partially raised.

"Are you seriously making jokes right now?" If that wannabe-charming smile she'd heard in his voice had still been there she would have _punched_ it off.

Okay, so probably not the best idea when she was armed, angry, and very much dangerous. "Gail…"

She shook her head in warning. "Get in the car, Nick." Turning on her heel she opened the door to throw her gear in the back; slammed it closed and got in the driver's seat.

He'd barely closed _his_ door when she backed out of the spot and roared out of the lot. "Uh… maybe you should slow down a bit."

"Don't tell me what to do, Collins." Reaching over she yanked up on his seat belt so it tightened painfully against him. "There – if we get into an accident you'll be safe." Two tours in Afghanistan and he was worried about a little speed, for God's sake…

"At least you still care about my well-being," he joked, subtly sticking a thumb between the fabric and his stomach to relieve the pressure. He did not point out that she had, in fact, slowed down.

Gail gave him the death glare to shame all death glares. _Obviously_ she still cared about his well-being; she wouldn't be so pissed and hurt and betrayed if she _didn't_. "A _year_ , Nick."

"I know." He wouldn't defend himself, partly because she had a right to her anger but mostly because they wouldn't get anywhere until she got it all out.

"I didn't understand why you had to go halfway around the world to a warzone to deal with your shit but I _supported_ you." And they both knew how good she was at putting someone else's needs before her own.

"I know." Just like he knew that her support had cost her her only ally and confidant.

"It hurt like hell but I saw you off. And you told me, _promised_ me, you'd be gone two years max." Two years until she could _breathe_ again.

"I _know_." And at the time he'd really thought it would be enough.

"You _don't_!" she snapped, shooting him a blurred glare. "You _don't_ know! You don't know how happy I was when your tour was up…"

His eyes burned, seeing her blink away tears. "Gail…"

"Or how _un_ happy I was when you said you were staying. Because it wasn't just about waiting longer, Nick; it was about having to start worrying all over again if you'd be alive _to_ come home." She bit her lip and let out a hoarse scoff. "And now I find out I spent the last year worrying for nothing."

"Not for nothing," he swore with a sharp jerk of his head. "I came back messed up, Gail."

Gail scoffed again. "Funny, because going was supposed to make you _un_ -messed up." That was the entire _point_.

Nick wished she would pull over so he didn't have to have this conversation with the side of her face. "A _different_ kind of messed up, Gail. And you'd stopped answering my letters or taking my calls. I didn't know if you even wanted anything to do with me."

 _Nice –_ he'd broken his word but it was _her_ fault… "And you thought the longer you hid from me the _better_ it would get?" Had he suffered brain damage over there?

"My therapist told me to wait." When the anticipated contempt didn't materialize – she only lifted an (albeit judgy) eyebrow – he explained, "I know it sounds like a cop-out but she was worried I'd backslide if it didn't go well."

"You're right – that does sound like a cop-out." It wasn't the first time Gail had been accused of being bad for someone's mental health, though, and she had to wonder how often she'd come up in his sessions for the therapist to draw the same conclusion… "Was it also her idea for you to roll on up in here like a cocky bastard, acting like you _haven't_ been gone five years?"

"No…" Waiting for her to look at him he gave her a crooked grin. "I knew that if you smelled blood in the water I was as good as dead."

Gail sighed in self-loathing and turned back to the road. "If you were going to join the mollycoddled masses anyway why didn't you just do _that_ to deal with your shit?" _Instead_ of enlisting.

Her palpable disdain for anyone 'weak' enough to partake was only one of the reasons he'd waited until now to tell her: "I did."

"What?" Pulling off the road Gail threw the cruiser into park. " _When_?" And why hadn't she known about it?

"Uh…" With her attention now laser-focused on him Nick suddenly regretted his wish. "When we got back from Europe."

Gail bit off a bitter laugh. "I didn't realize travelling with me was so horrible it sent you running to see a shrink. At least now I know the real reason you made me come home, I guess." She'd never bought the lame one he'd given back then.

"Gail, come on," Nick sighed. "We'd already been gone twice as long as we were supposed to be and our parents were flipping." It wasn't the whole truth but he wasn't about to come clean now.

"Only half of them were flipping." Bill and Jenny had continued financing their little expedition. "And really it's their fault for thinking we could see all of Europe in a year, anyway."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they really should have known that by 'travel' you actually meant 'spend a month in each country.'"

Gail stared at him a moment, unimpressed, before maneuvering the car back into traffic. "Tell dispatch we're in our zone."

"Huh?" He was as taken aback by the sudden non-sequitur as by the request itself. "How?"

"With the radio," she instructed, voice dripping with scorn. "I assume you learned how to use one while off playing G.I. Joe?"

It had been a while so he couldn't be sure whether that was pissed off snark or just regular old garden variety snark. "I meant 'what do I say?' Not all of us grew up with the boys in blue as our personal chauffeurs."

Oh, he was one to mock preferential treatment… "Is the returning war hero slash Chief's nephew too busy being fawned over at the academy to pay attention? 'Cause I'm pretty sure they cover that…"

Of course she'd think it was that simple – she'd had all the manuals memorized by the time he'd met her… "Well, if I'd known there would be a quiz I would have had one of my many _admirers_ help me study…"

Maybe if he hadn't decided to _ambush_ her… "It's not rocket science, Nick – you give them our call sign and status code. I think even you can manage that."

Okay, so he was leaning towards it being the 'pissed off' kind of snark… "I know the procedure, Gail; I just don't know the exact code."

"You know what? Forget it," she decided, "I could have done it myself by now."

Nick grabbed the hand mic before she could, holding it out of her reach. "And you could have just given me the code in the time it took you to bitch about it…"

Taking a calming breath Gail grit her teeth and returned her hand to the steering wheel. "10-54."

"Thank you. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He smirked at her as he pressed the mic's button. "Dispatch, 1509 reporting 10-54."

"Good job," Gail praised with only a hint of sarcasm. "Very official-sounding." Not that it mattered…

" _1509, please repeat. Are you saying there's livestock on the road in Corktown?"_

"Seriously, Gail?" Nick groaned.

"You should really brush up on your codes…" Stealing the mic from him she reconnected with the house. "Dispatch, 1509. Disregard and show us as 10-8."

" _10-4, 1509."_

Nick detected an undercurrent of laughter in the brief transmission; could've kicked himself for not realizing the code was too high to be something so common. Or that she'd given in too easily. Or that she was _that_ upset about his comment… "Gail, we'd been in Dublin for two months. You signed a lease without telling me, for Christ's sake."

"Okay, one: it was only a little lease." Barely a lease at all, really. "Two: I was tired of staying in hostels and hovels. And three: I thought being in Ireland would get my mom off my back."

" _Bullshit_ ," he immediately called her out. "You knew the only thing that would get her off your back was you home with a badge and that's _exactly_ what you were avoiding. You picked Ireland because you liked the boozing and the boys."

Gail flinched at the truth more than the tone. "It was supposed to be our rumspringa, Nick. Our last hurrah before succumbing to the soul-crushing weight and monotony of adulthood." The entire _reason_ for the trip was avoidance.

"Yeah, well, one of us did a lot more hurrahing than the other." He'd lost count of the number of nights he'd spent alone in the apartment he hadn't agreed to.

"Aw…" Reaching over Gail gave his cheek a patronizing pinch. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were jealous, Collins."

Nick batted her away. "It just wasn't what I thought it would be, okay? It didn't help the way I thought it would." He'd been stupid to think it would change anything.

As much as Gail hated her parents sometimes – had wished she could trade them in for different models – she couldn't even imagine losing them both and then having Steve abandon her never to be seen again; how much it would fuck her up… "So you decided to go see a shrink."

"Not on my own." After his parents' deaths he'd had a court-appointed psychologist but it had never seemed to help. "Jenny saw I was in a bad place so she convinced me to give it another shot."

There was no implication in his words but Gail's takeaway was that they'd lived together for almost two years and she _hadn't_ seen it _._ She'd have to revisit that little revelation later, though, because right now he was in the dog house goddamn it and if she started thinking about how self-absorbed she'd been back then (still was, if she were being honest) then the righteous anger she could already feel waning would slip away altogether. "Clearly they weren't very good at their job if you still needed to enlist." Yup, deflection worked…

"I needed to get away, Gail." Before she could point out that technically he had just _been_ away (for two years, no less) he added, "To have a _purpose_. She thought a change in perspective would be good for me."

 _She?_ Gail's fingers tightened on the wheel. "It's the same therapist? I guess it shouldn't surprise me that the quack who thought PTSD would be a step _up_ also tried to keep you from your friends." Chiquita was _seriously_ getting on her nerves.

"Gail…"

"Did Jenny see her ad on the side of a bus shelter or something?" You'd think a paramedic and a defense attorney would've had a better pool of resources to draw from…

Nick would have laughed if not for the seriousness of the conversation. Before she could continue her rant he put a restraining hand on her arm. "Gail, they were my decisions to make." He just couldn't tell her why he'd made them.

The soft declaration was like a blade in Gail's chest, and she bit the inside of her cheek as her gaze scanned the busy streets.

Watching her try not to cry gutted him. "Gilly…"

" _Don't_ ," she cut him off, barely more than a whisper. "You lost the right to call me that when you started keeping secrets." He was the one person she'd never kept _anything_ from.

Blowing out a guilty puff of air Nick turned his attention out the window.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Gail broke the silence with a quiet, "Who knew?"

"Just my family," he rushed to assure her, knowing she was questioning whether or not the betrayal extended to _hers_. "And they were sworn to secrecy."

The Chief was surely included in that, and she couldn't help but hear her mother's voice inform her that if she hadn't _sorely neglected_ that relationship she might have known sooner.

"They tried to get me to tell you, Gail. But I wasn't ready." Appealing to her ego – trying to make her _smile_ – he jokingly confessed, "I wanted to make sure my head was on straight before you knocked it off again."

Gail warily cut her eyes to him. "And is it?"

It wasn't a smile but it felt like an opening… "Yeah. She helped me work through some stuff."

Squashing a surge of irritation at the mention of his useless excuse for a shrink Gail lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Gave you a little physical therapy to go along with your mental?"

Nick considered throwing her 'jealous' comment back at her but decided on the safer, "Good to see you're still obsessed with my sex life, Peck."

"I was never obsessed with your sex life," Gail denied easily. "I had a vested interest in your love life because it affected _my_ sex life. You cut me off whenever you got a girlfriend."

She said that like it was unusual and a _bad_ thing… "What can I say? I guess I'm just a gentleman that way."

Rolling her eyes Gail focused them back on the road as the light turned green.

"I'm good now, Gail." He needed her to believe that. "I'm back where I belong and I can appreciate what I have instead of dwelling on what I don't. I found serenity."

Gail's brow furrowed. "Like, the movie? I didn't even know you'd lost it." Or _had_ it. Or what that even had to do with anything.

Nick knew she wasn't familiar with the concept but that was just sad. "No, like 'the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.'"

 _Oh_ … "Isn't that part of the AA pledge?" Where was Andy when she could actually be useful?

"I'm pretty sure it was _just_ a prayer first," Nick laughed. "And before you ask: no I'm not an alcoholic."

Gail wasn't sure she wouldn't prefer 'alcoholic' to 'religious'… After a minute of quiet contemplation, lip worried between her teeth, she gave him her best 'don't fuck with me' look. "You better be for real, Collins. 'Cause I'm already past my emotional capacity for friends like four times over and if I let you back in only for you to leave me again…"

"Not gonna happen." Snatching her flailing hand from the air Nick held it to his borrowed vest; promised, "If I go anywhere you're coming with me. Even if I have to kidnap you."

His sincerity shattered the last of Gail's defenses but she hid her weakness behind an indignant eyebrow and a pointed glance at her captured limb. "Good to see you're still obsessed with _tying me up_ , Collins."

Nick chuckled as he released her. "Bondage was always _your_ kink, babe."

"Oh, please," Gail scoffed, waving her newly reclaimed hand. "You loved it, having me all trussed up and at your mercy." Not to mention it was the only time he was ever in _control_.

"Yeah, you're right…" Heaving a nostalgic sigh he tacked on a wistful, "Only thing better was when you were _gagged_ , too."

 _Ooh…_ Gail shook her head at him even as she suppressed a smile. "I'd watch myself if I were you, Collins – I could arrange for you to have an 'accident' today and no one would be the wiser."

Nick grinned at the idle threat, thinking how good it was to finally be home.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy New Year! Sorry for the delay - I was a little checked out over the holidays.**

 **Picks up on the same day as the previous chapter. First part is Dov & Oliver, second is Gail & Nick.**

 **Reminder that Oliver is secretly having marital issues because of the whole trip to Gilly's (the strip club) thing.**

* * *

 **Previously:**

After a minute of quiet contemplation, lip worried between her teeth, Gail gave him her best 'don't fuck with me' look. "You better be for real, Collins. 'Cause I'm already past my emotional capacity for friends like four times over and if I let you back in only for you to leave me again…"

"Not gonna happen." Snatching her flailing hand from the air Nick held it to his borrowed vest; promised, "If I go anywhere you're coming with me. Even if I have to kidnap you."

* * *

 **Now:**

"You okay? You've been quiet all shift."

Dov kept his eyes cast out the window of the cruiser. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Not that Oliver was normally one to look a gift horse in the mouth (especially not this _particular_ gift horse), but the lack of chatter was actually more troubling than refreshing. Even with the drama having quieted down over the last couple of weeks the boy hadn't actually gotten quit _er_ , he'd just returned to babbling about more mundane things…

A loud chirping saved Dov from having to answer. Checking his phone he found a message from Gail: _Back at the barn. All in one piece._ It was accompanied by a picture of her all gowned up and pulling a Gene Simmons pose, taken in a mirror in the girls' locker room.

"Peck?" Oliver guessed.

"Yeah. She got cut early for the dinner." Dov hit send on 'And a mighty fine piece it is' before realizing just how _bad_ that was, and apparently she agreed because not ten seconds later 'Casper' was flashing across his screen. He cringed as he accepted the call. "Hey."

" _Did you really just say that?"_

"It sounded better in my head than it looks typed out," Dov conceded. "You just don't get the full effect of my geeky charm through text."

" _Right. That *must* be it…"_

She sounded at least a _little_ amused so he was going to chalk it up as another win for geeky charm all the same… "So how was your day?" It was the most he'd allow himself to ask over the phone and with Oliver listening.

" _Boring. Almost like there was some big conspiracy to take all the cool calls and leave me with the dog park altercations and adolescent candy thieves."_

"Weird…" At risk of deepening her ire he 'marveled,' "The rest of us have been _super_ busy."

" _Ugh. I hate you all."_

"Yeah, yeah – we know." It just didn't carry as much weight as it used to… "Leaving soon for the restaurant?"

" _Yup. Finest dining I can get on division dime. Jealous?"_

"Yes." It wasn't because of the free food, though.

" _We can trade places: you and your fancy feet can take Collins out for a twirl and I can go home and binge-watch 'Orange is the New Black.'"_

"Hmm," Dov pretended to consider it. "I totally would but I don't think I could pull off that dress."

" _Oh, I think you totally *can*… later on tonight."_

Oliver took that as his cue to announce, "I can *totally* hear you, you know." Close quarters did _not_ make for private conversations.

" _Well, what'd you go and tell me for? Now I'm going to have to start charging you."_

"I don't think he appreciates the thoughts you just put in my head," Dov chuckled.

"No, I most definitely do not." Pinching the sleeve of the boy's coat Oliver pulled until the phone was between them. "Hey, Bright Eyes? I'm stuck in a car with your boyfriend for at least another hour… if you could be a doll and not get him all worked up that'd be great…"

Her laughter drifted from the other end of the line.

" _10-4, old man. But only because I'm not sure your heart could take the excitement of listening in."_

"That's my girl," Oliver declared with mock-pride, returning his hand to the wheel. "Always thinking of others."

" _Not to brag or anything but I hear I'm a lock for 'Humanitarian of the Year.'"_

Dov smiled as he brought the cell back to his ear; narrated, "He's rolling his eyes at you."

" _Oh, he loves it. So what are you doing after shift?"_

"Waiting for you." But she already knew that.

Oliver winced in second-hand embarrassment. "We're going to the Penny."

"Uh…" Dov gave him a confused look but relayed the information nonetheless: "Apparently we're going to the Penny."

" _I heard. I'd tell you not to have too much fun without me but we both know you couldn't if you tried."_

Not while he was thinking about all the fun _she_ was having, no… "So I'll just wait for you there then?"

Oliver's palm met his forehead with a barely audible 'thud.'

" _That works – you can get a lift with Oliver and leave me the car. I'll see you later."_

"Okay." Dov didn't even have to swallow the 'I love you' that would have followed for any _normal_ couple because it would have been professed to a dial tone. He put his phone away with a sigh.

"Could you be any more pathetic?" Oliver posed facetiously. "You got the girl – you can stop playing the part of the love-sick teenager any time now."

Right – as much as anyone _could_ have Gail… "I spent the night at her place and we only took one car in; I had to come back for her when she was done anyway."

Oliver suspected not coming in separately was less an oversight than it was the kid's doing so that he could see her again – which made him no _less_ pathetic – and had to teasingly point out, "Bossy girl like her, she'd have had no trouble commandeering a lift home."

"I'm sure Collins would _volunteer_ , no commandeering necessary." Her on the back of his motorcycle, arms tight around his waist…

The resentment was palpable, and suddenly the quiet shift made sense. "You worried about junior?"

"No," Dov automatically denied, then swiveled his head towards his partner. "Why? Do you think I should be?"

"No. I don't know." Realizing that wasn't comforting Oliver tried, "I mean, you _seem_ worried."

Dov sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just… things have _just_ settled down. Chris knows; he's not happy about it but at least he doesn't hate us. And Gail has finally stopped shutting down every time his name comes up. But then this guy shows up out of nowhere and he's the closest I've ever seen to her actually genuinely _liking_ someone."

That was hardly reason to sound the alarms… "Their families are close, Dov; they've known each other since they were teens."

"It sounds like you're saying they're friends," Dov translated, a mite distrustfully. "But you said she didn't _have_ friends."

"I said she didn't have friends when _we_ knew her," Oliver reminded him. "He must have gotten in just under the wire, before her Elaine-ification."

Dov would have argued that Gail had never been fully 'Elaine-ified' (thank God), but the possibility that this Collins guy was in some way responsible shut him up. "So you don't know anything?" The 'must have' told him it was a long shot but he still had to ask.

Oliver shook his head. "Only what I heard through the grapevine." Lucy was already up in the offices and Bill had just been promoted when the Collins' had taken the boy in. "Jason and Jenny – the Chief's brother and sister-in-law – had kids of their own but they used to foster kids from time to time; you know, the ones whose parents would be getting them back once they'd done whatever the courts ordered. Anyway, the kid's parents were killed in an accident and Jenny was one of the medics on the scene. I guess she connected with him because she convinced Jason to adopt him permanently when living with his uncle didn't work out."

"That's it?" Despite being forewarned Dov was disappointed by the lack of intel.

Why was Oliver expected to be the fount of all knowledge Peck? He was starting to regret ever opening that can of worms… "Dov, I'm not tight with that group." After a beat he snapped his fingers as though having an epiphany. "You know who would probably know more?"

Dov perked up. "Who?"

"That girlfriend of yours," Oliver 'revealed,' giving him a pointed look.

Dov's groan was as much because of the answer as because he should have seen it coming. "I haven't exactly had a chance to talk to her about it yet. And what am I supposed to say, anyway? 'So… what was the exact nature of your relationship with Collins?'"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "She's your girlfriend, Dov, not a suspect."

More like a _hostile witness_ … "You really think she's just going to volunteer information?" Oliver may not have known about them together but surely he knew _her_ better than that…

"What does it matter, anyway?" Oliver deflected, accepting that the kid probably wasn't wrong. "Whatever it was, it's the past. She's with you now."

Less than two months ago she was with Chris – _things changed_ … Returning his gaze out the window Dov took a steeling breath and gave voice to the thought that had been plaguing him all day: "Her arms were under."

"Come again?" Oliver blinked.

"When she hugged him her arms were around his waist." It hurt no less saying it a second time.

"Uh… that's usually how hugs work, Dov." Weird that his issue was _that_ and not the hug itself…

Dov watched his reflection give a solemn shake of the head. "Even if she has to stand on her tiptoes her arms are going to be _over_ , for control. Even with me and Chris. It's a 'Gail' thing." She _still_ did it ninety percent of the time, he assumed instinctively, and that she had no such instinct when it came to 'junior' was going to make it a lot harder not to take personally.

Oliver would have thought the 'control' came in her barely letting anyone get that close to begin with… Besides,"Wouldn't that be _less_ control? You could just pick her up." Especially if she was on her tiptoes and off balance.

Turning to his partner Dov lifted an eyebrow. "You know she'd just use the upward momentum to knee you in the groin, right?" He'd never asked her but he felt it was a pretty safe assumption. "Not to mention she'd have her arms around your neck and easy access to, like, _every_ vulnerable part of your head…"

Point well taken, although now Oliver was wondering why anyone would ever let _her_ get that close… "Wait – how long have you been watching her that you noticed?"

Dov had the decency to look shamed. "Doesn't matter. Point is, only reason her arms are _under_ is because they're really close. She _trusts_ him." Implicitly.

With anyone else that wouldn't have been such a big deal but Oliver could see the cause for concern. Still… "Look, kid, chances are he's just a friend. You should want that for her, right? Someone she trusts?" Lord knew they were few and far between.

Logically, Dov knew that. But what he _should_ want and what he _did_ want were a little hard to reconcile at the moment with the mental klaxons drowning everything else out.

The lack of response worried Oliver, and he shot his young partner a glance fraught with warning. "It's probably nothing, Dov. Don't go getting all paranoid and insecure and give her a reason to make it _something_." Peck was definitely not the type for coddling, and she was _very much_ the type to do what she was accused of just out of spite.

Paranoid and insecure? Him? _Never_ _!_ "So the Penny, huh?"

Oliver accepted the change in topic with a wry chuckle. "You got something better to do? That _doesn't_ include sitting at your mom's waiting for Peck to call?"

Well, that was unnecessarily harsh… "Don't _you_?"

"Nah. Zoë's off with the girls for the weekend. I'm a free man." Not a word of a lie and yet nowhere near the entire truth.

"Do you think we'll ever get to a place where I consider a couple of days away from her as 'free?'" And not, say, reason to expect the demise of their relationship?

Oliver patted his arm reassuringly. "You will, kid. Just don't do something stupid to screw it up." _Like I did._

* * *

Gail waited impatiently for their waiter to deposit the drinks and pull out his notepad. "I'll start with the shrimp cocktail, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and lobster mousse." Handing him her menu she finished, "And for the entrée I'll have the filet mignon, medium rare. Scalloped potatoes and Caesar salad."

Giving the man an amused shrug Nick handed over his own menu. "I'll have the salmon. Thanks." Once they were alone again he wondered, "Isn't that a bit excessive, even for you?"

"I don't care about excessive," Gail dismissed with a wave of her hand, the other mindlessly twirling her stemware. "I care about getting a full meal." Why did it always cost more money for _less_ food?

Nick chuckled, relieved that at least some things hadn't changed. "Well, are you going to share at least?"

"Depends on if you manage to piss me off before then." And given that he was already treading on thin ice, and that it was _him,_ prospects were bleak…

Her tone said it was as good as a foregone conclusion, and seeing as Nick hated to disappoint… "So…you and Epstein, huh?"

Gail paused with her wine glass at her lips; slowly lowered it back to the table. "How long you been holding onto that one for?"

"Since I was pretty sure you weren't going to kill me for it." Though the look she was giving him said he might have been a little premature with that assessment…

Taking a deliberate sip of rosé Gail mentally regrouped. "Who told you?" Her friends wouldn't have, her parents _couldn't_ _have_ (not if he was telling the truth about them not knowing), and he hadn't had time to really chat with anyone else at the station.

Nick smiled, though it didn't really reach his eyes. "You took him to the fundraiser, Gail. When _you_ show up in public with someone, people take notice." He'd known what it meant as soon as Jason had told him she'd brought a date.

The thought of another one of her social circles gossiping about her did nothing to brighten Gail's mood. "So? You got something to say about it?"

Ignoring the undercurrent of warning he allowed, "You were just never the relationship type, that's all. And he isn't exactly _your_ type."

Gail's head took on a dangerous tilt. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

She'd gone from mildly threatening to downright scary without even raising her voice. Her fingers gently gliding over the hilt of her knife might have had something to do with that, though… "Nothing. Never mind."

"No. You said it…" Curious as much as annoyed she insisted, "Enlighten me, Collins – what's my 'type?'" She wasn't aware she had enough of a romantic history to even _have_ one.

Nick smiled inwardly at how predictable she was; shrugged, "The kind of guy who's gonna pick you up and screw you senseless against the wall."

Okay, fine. Maybe back when all she'd been interested in was getting laid, but: "I'm not with Dov for the sex."

" _Ouch_." Nick winced in exaggerated sympathy.

Gail's eyes narrowed. "Don't. Don't twist my words. The sex is good."

Letting out a low whistle Nick shook his head, amazed. "Wow – you really _have_ changed. What happened to the girl who'd kick a guy to the curb just for the sex not being _great_?"

"I kept you around, didn't I?" she volleyed, smirk on her perfectly colored lips and glass tipped towards him in a mocking salute.

"Well, now I _know_ I hit a nerve…" Tapping his glass to hers he held it there as he held her gaze. "…Saying the sex was anything less than _mind-blowing_ is a blatant lie and you know it."

Gail fought the temptation to throttle him as he cockily took a swig of his beer. "I am _not_ talking to you about this, Collins." He should count himself lucky that she was talking to him at all.

Nick shrugged, unfazed. "I'm just saying – you've got needs I know this guy isn't meeting."

"Oh, really?" Despite her previous declaration Gail couldn't just let that slide. "So you're psychic now? You spent like five minutes with him…"

"Five minutes I was practically laying claim to his girlfriend and he said nothing." Learning how to read people had saved Nick's life on more than one occasion, and this guy was obviously _far_ too passive to tie her up or get a little rough when she wanted it.

Gritting her teeth Gail tersely offered, "Maybe he didn't realize he was in an Animal Planet documentary and needed to mark his territory." If _she_ had she would've made it clear she wasn't territory to be marked. By _anyone_. "Or maybe he's just secure in our relationship and knows you aren't a threat."

Nick had to swallow a chuckle at the not-so-subtle attempt at a take-down. "That's what you're going with? You guys don't even act like you _are_ in a relationship."

Gail flinched before she could suppress it. "That's complicated."

"Because of Diaz," Nick supplied knowingly.

It took a second for the shock to pass enough for her to demand, "How is it that I don't even know you're back in town for a year but you seem to know everything about _my_ life?" She felt like she was bringing a knife to a gunfight.

"I got updates from the Chief." It was the only way Nick could keep tabs on her from afar.

Gail was going to kill her big-mouthed, loose-lipped, over-sharing father.

"And you're trying to tell me that the guy who just stole his best friend's girlfriend – that girlfriend being the commitment phobic Gail Peck – is _secure_ in that relationship?" Nick lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. "Either you're covering because you don't want to admit I'm right or the guy isn't as smart as I'd pegged him for."

"That's it…" Tossing her napkin on the table Gail pushed back her chair and stood. "We're done." How _dare_ he?

"Gilly, stop. _Please_." He grabbed her wrist as she made to pass; looked pleadingly up at her. "I'm sorry, okay? I guess I just thought that everything would be the same when I got back. Especially you."

Gail glared at his restraining hand but didn't dislodge it. "It's been five years, Nick." Obviously things were going to change, and he had no one to blame but himself for not being there to see it.

"Really?" Eyebrow raised he challenged, "You going to tell me you saw yourself here five years ago?"

Well, he had her there; she couldn't even have imagined herself being here _two_ years ago…

Nick took her failure to respond as surrender; forced a smile. "Can you really blame me for being surprised that the girl who used to break out in hives at the mere _mention_ of a relationship is suddenly Miss Monogamous?"

Blowing out a resigned puff of air Gail slid free and reclaimed her seat. "I don't blame you for being surprised, Nick." Hell, it surprised _her_ more than anyone… "I blame you for being a dick about it. Can't you just be happy for me?"

"The way you were happy for _me_?" Nick scoffed good-naturedly. "Sabotaging every relationship I had?"

Okay, so they hadn't had a very healthy friendship (what with her ever _was_?) but in her defense it had never been all that hard to do… "Yeah, well, I'm possessive and don't like people trying to take away my toys. Good thing you've always been a better person than me."

He wasn't, really; there'd just never been anything for him _to_ sabotage, and he wasn't sure he was going to deal with being on the other end of it any more maturely than she had... "I guess I'm just gonna have to get used to not being the only guy in your life anymore."

Gail ignored the pang of sympathy; gave him an overly sweet smile. "I had to get used to you not being in my life _at all_ – I'm sure you'll manage."

 _Touché._ Nick wished he could make her understand that leaving her was the only choice he'd had if he'd wanted to stay sane, but he couldn't do that without telling her _why_ , and he didn't think either one of them were ready for that yet.

"And just so there's no confusion," she added, part warning, part attempt at levity, "the only desert you'll be getting tonight is off that menu."

Burying his regret Nick summoned a cheeky grin. "So what you're saying is that there's hope for _tomorrow_ …"

Gail rolled her eyes and turned to the waiter who'd started filling the table with her dishes. "The gentleman will be ordering his own appetizer."

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 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope everyone is enjoying their Easter/Passover/day :)**

 **Sorry - real life has gotten in the way as sometimes happens. Also, this one day in story that was supposed to be like two chapters and is now at five, so I'm not sure how in the hell I'm going to make it the remaining two months until Andy's return and the real start of the season I'm mirroring lol Please hang in there with me!**

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Noelle rolled her eyes ceiling-ward as Epstein took another not-so-sneaky peek at his phone, happening more and more often the longer they were at the Penny. "You checking the time again or do you think you somehow missed a call in the last ten minutes?"

Understanding her annoyance – if not sharing it – Oliver lifted his shoulders in a playful shrug. "Why not both?"

"Oliver!" Traci gasped, almost choking on her beer. "Did you just quote a _meme_?" If he _hadn't_ she hoped he lied to her, otherwise she was going to be seriously disappointed.

"I have teenage daughters," Oliver hand-waved. "Ninety percent of what comes out of their _mouths_ is 'meme.'" Adapt or have no clue what in the hell anyone was talking about.

Seeing his opportunity for revenge Dov took it, lips quirked. "I'm impressed; here I thought all you had in your bag of tricks was old-timey references and dad jokes."

Oliver slapped his palm against the table and let loose a rowdy, " _Hardy har har_!"

Way to prove him wrong about the old-timey references… "And just like that your street cred has plummeted again."

Traci chuckled. "I wouldn't worry too much about the guy still saying 'street cred,' Oliver." Dov was actually worse because he thought he was cool and 'hip to the lingo' but told more bad puns and dad jokes than anyone she knew.

Having his coolness factor doubted was the least of Dov's worries at the moment… "How long does it take to eat dinner, anyway? Their reservation was for seven."

Distracting from his lack of cool by highlighting his lack of _chill_ … In keeping with the meme theme: _Bold strategy, Cotton._

Noelle could field this one: "Normal people? A couple of hours. Peck? About ten minutes longer than it takes them to make the food." But that probably wasn't the answer he'd been looking for.

"It's 10:30…" Chris wouldn't say he was taking some kind of pleasure in watching his best friend stew the way _he_ had the night of the arcade, but he couldn't say he _wasn't,_ either…

Oliver sighed; they were only going to get the kid all riled up again for nothing. "I'm sure they're just catching up. It's been five years."

"But he was back _last_ year," Dov countered in what might have been mistaken for a whine. "Why show up _now_?"

 _Karma_? It would have taken a level of cruelty Chris didn't possess to voice that possibility aloud though.

Gail had been even _less_ emotionally available a year ago; Traci could only imagine it wouldn't have worked out nearly as well for Dov if he'd been vying against both Chris _and_ Collins for the blonde's (extremely) limited affections… "Well, Frank said he did two tours in Afghanistan – maybe Sexy McSoldier needed some time to readjust to being back home."

Dov's brow furrowed unappreciatively. "Seriously? _Sexy McSoldier?"_

"The man served our country, Dov," Traci grinned, unable to help herself. "All I'm doing is showing a little appreciation for his sacrifice."

Right… his _sacrifice_. "And what would Jerry think of your 'appreciation?'"

Giving him a cheeky wink Traci suggested, "If it bothers him so much he can always enlist himself."

Chris spun the beer in his half-empty mug; announced to no one in particular, "I wonder if he wore his dress uniform to dinner." Were they allowed to wear it out in public like that?

"Really?" Dov's disbelieving gaze shifted from Traci to Chris. "You, too?"

It hadn't been a dig – only genuine curiosity – so Chris just shrugged. "I mean, it's not like he's your best friend or anything." Okay, maybe his subconscious had had a different idea…

Sufficiently shamed, Dov swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"No," Chris sighed, waving away the apology. "I get it, man; I'd probably be a little freaked, too." He wasn't normally an insecure guy but still, part of him was glad 'Sexy McSoldier' hadn't shown up on his watch.

Leave it to Chris to ruin Traci's attempt to lighten the mood… She tried again with a quipped, "Who would have guessed the ice queen had a friend before us, anyway?"

"Not me." Especially since she wasn't exactly chomping at the bit for _their_ friendship.

"Me either," Chris echoed Dov.

"You would think she'd be better at it," Traci laughingly appended.

Noelle scoffed at their presumptuousness. "You sure she even considers you lot friends?"

That was… a fair question, actually. One Dov _still_ couldn't answer with absolute certainty… "I think she does. She'll deny it unless she gets something out of admitting it, though." Which would almost never happen because – as she wasn't afraid to ruefully point out – _hers_ was the only name that carried any weight.

Oliver was barely paying attention, still shaking his head in amazement at Diaz comforting the guy who'd just recently 'stolen' his girlfriend. The start of yet another conversation revolving around Peck was his cue to take off. "Alright, guys. That's it for me."

"Yeah – me too." Noelle was only there so Oliver wouldn't be stuck alone with the kids all night, anyway. Well, and to keep an eye on him, but he didn't need to know about that part.

"It's still early," Dov argued.

"And I am an old man that's having a harder and harder time getting myself out of bed." Though that wasn't entirely due to his age… "I'm sure Peck'll be here soon to keep the party going." Or get it _started_.

Knowing Dov wouldn't leave without Gail, and feeling the need to debrief the blonde herself, Traci presented her empty glass. "I'm good for another round."

Chris nodded his agreement just as someone clasped his shoulders from behind.

"Well, look at these morose mothers right here…" Gail grinned slyly at Dov over Chris' head. "Told you you wouldn't be able to have any fun without me."

Dov's smile faded when he saw Collins standing beside her.

"About time…" Traci said by way of welcome, doubting the blonde had any clue that _she_ was the reason for the moroseness. "Where've you been?"

It was a good thing Gail had a lot of practice brushing off judgment because Traci'd sounded eerily like Elaine just then… "I had to re-teach Collins how to dance." _Mom._

"Yeah – turns out the travel agent lied and Afghanistan is a real war zone," Nick joked. "Not much call for ballroom over there."

Gail lifted a teasing eyebrow. "So you say; we don't know what you guys did during your down time."

Nudging her sideways he helped her out of her coat. "Dreamt of home, mostly."

Traci's eyes narrowed at his smooth implication and the familiarity between them. "Yeah, well, you're lucky we're still here."

Shrugging, Gail took their coats from Nick and tossed them on the bench of the next table over. "I figured someone would've let me know if you were leaving."

She hadn't named any names but Dov surreptitiously deleted the text he'd been in the middle of writing her.

Chris noted that, unlike Gail, Nick was back in his street clothes, leaving the question of his dinner attire (disappointingly) unanswered.

"You gonna introduce us to your friend, Princess?" Oliver prompted.

Right, Nick hadn't met the two senior officers yet… "Nick, this is resident papa-bear Oliver Shaw, and mama-bear-to-be Noelle Williams. Guys, Nick."

Noelle pursed her lips. "You know, just because the baby's not out yet doesn't mean I'm not a mom."

" _You know_ ," Gail mimicked, "Next time I'm just gonna go with my first choice of 'parasite carrier.'" Try to be nice…

The others groaned and/or rolled their eyes.

Nodding at Nick in acknowledgement, Oliver motioned for Noelle to stand so he could get off the bench. "Nice to meet you, Collins. Peck, we were just heading out."

"I just got here…" Gail smugly watched Nick's offer of help get batted away by Noelle before turning back to Oliver. "You trying to tell me something?"

"Only that you look beautiful." Coming to a stop in front of her Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead, then enveloped her in a hug.

"Uh…" Gail's arms stayed stiff at her sides while her brain scrambled through a threat assessment and possible escape options. After a few seconds she tentatively returned the gesture.

The blonde's face over their TO's shoulder simultaneously screamed deer in headlights and caged tiger, and Traci couldn't help but snicker under her breath.

"He loves you more than anything," Oliver whispered gruffly into Peck's ear. "Just remember that when he screws up, okay?"

Something in his tone made Gail's breath catch. It was too wistful to be about a hypothetical; too pained to just be about Dov. When he pulled away she grabbed his arm and searched his face. "Hey – you okay?"

Oliver nodded; willed his voice cheerful. "Fine. I'm just glad _we're_ okay."

Even if they hadn't made up weeks ago over the misunderstanding about Dov's transfer – tacitly and without apology from either party, of course – his emphasis still would have struck her as odd. He'd slipped away before she could question it, though.

"I'm going to hit the head first," Oliver told Noelle, stoic mask back in place. "I'll meet you outside."

"I'm pregnant and I go to the bathroom less than you," Noelle groaned as she donned her coat.

Oliver rubbed a loving palm over his abdomen. "Beer baby."

Gail sent her gaze after him, confused because he didn't seem drunk but he wasn't acting _sober_ either… "How much has he had to drink?"

"Too much," Noelle covered for her emotional friend. "Don't worry – I got him."

Unconvinced, Gail sent a questioning glance at her boyfriend.

Dov gave her an amused shrug as Noelle walked away. _Of course_ she'd think someone wanting to hug her was cause for concern…

Vacating her chair Traci put a hand on the blonde's arm to stop her from taking one. "Come with."

"Nuh-uh," Gail instantly declined, Oliver all but forgotten. "You may have suckered me into 'girls' night' and 'girls' weekend' but I draw the line at 'girls' trip to the bathroom.'"

"To the bar for another pitcher," Traci corrected with a heaving roll of her eyes.

 _Oh_. "Well, fair warning: you ever start asking me to go pee with you we're done." That was one part of having girlfriends Gail would never understand. Or _want_ to… Motioning for Nick to take Noelle's seat on the bench she told him, "I'll be right back."

Traci sighed, then led her friend to the bar proper.

"Did you miss me, Nash?" Gail smarmed as she took a stool. "Need some alone time?" Now _that_ was something she could understand.

Ignoring the question, Traci didn't have to reach deep for her sternest look. "I can't believe you brought him here."

Gail blinked at the unexpected vitriol. "Nick? He's going to be one of us in a month. Figured I'd break him in early."

"Yeah? He got an awful lot of groveling done in one day." Traci knew the blonde was mostly all talk but that turnaround was ridiculous, even for her.

"I'm sorry," Gail lied, tamping down on her mounting ire, "Did I miss the part where it affects you?" Or where she owed anyone an explanation? "What's the problem?"

"' _What's the problem_?'" She couldn't possibly be this dense… "I'm the only one at our table you _haven't_ slept with, Gail."

Gail forcibly unclenched her jaw. "You realize that would be true even _without_ Nick here, right?" Clearly alcohol had impaired the girl's ability to reason… "And by the way? Slut shaming is not a good look for you." At least Gail hadn't been with two of them at the _same time_ …

Traci's brow furrowed. "I wasn't slut shaming. I'm just…"

"Feeling left out?" Gail's mock-sympathetic purse of the lips quickly became a mock-lascivious grin. "We could always make it four for four, you know. That's the kind of 'girls' trip to the bathroom' I could get behind."

Irritation quickly set Traci back on track. "Can you be serious for one second? I meant think about the position you're putting Dov in. He already has to deal with Chris being around all the time, now he's freaking out about your little blast from the past and you go and bring him here like he _belongs_?"

Liam had appeared on their side of the bar so Gail communicated their order – over the sound of Traci's glaring disapproval – then turned back to her 'friend.' "So let me get this straight – you're mad at me because Dov's freaking out about Nick so you decided to call me over _here_ and leave them over there _alone together_?" Ingenious plan.

"They're not alone," Traci immediately countered. "Chris is with them."

"You _just_ said Chris is part of the problem." Girl needed to make up her mind.

Glancing at their table for evidence all was good, Traci saw it seemed to be draped in an awkward silence. At a loss she looked back to the blonde with a huffed, "Stop trying to turn this around on me."

Laughing was probably the wrong response so Gail swallowed the urge. "Well, did you tell him there's no reason to freak out?"

"No." Anticipating the blonde's next question slash accusation Traci justified, "Because one: you never actually said that. Two: if I'd told him what you _had_ said – which wouldn't be very comforting, by the way – you'd be all pissy with me for getting all up in your business. And _three_ : I'm not sure he'd believe it. Not coming from me, at least." The more she saw them together the less Traci believed it herself.

As much as Gail would like to find fault with _that_ reasoning she couldn't. "Fine. _I'll_ tell him." It wasn't like she _wanted_ him freaking out.

Surprised at how easily her friend had given in Traci decided to press further: "Showing is more effective than telling, remember?"

God, how Gail hated her words being used against her… "Trace, he already spends like five nights a week at my place; I'm not going to agree to marry him just so he stops worrying about something he shouldn't be worried about." There were some things she was willing to do to humor him but that definitely wasn't one of them. Especially since she doubted it would even make a difference.

"You know what else might do the trick?" Traci offered, her tone carrying a note of exasperation at having to spell it out for her. "Acting like you actually _like_ him in public. Chris and Oliver _both_ got more affection than he did."

Okay, one of those was hardly by choice… "You think this is how I want it, Traci? Hell no." Albeit more sexual than affectionate, Gail wasn't exactly the type to keep her hands to herself… "But we've put Chris through enough and I'm not going to put him through that, too." Besides, it wasn't _all_ bad for Dov; by the time they were alone she was extra revved up and always more than ready to make it up to him. She didn't think Traci would appreciate having that info though…

Traci sighed, softening, and nodded her thanks at Liam who had deposited their pitcher. "Gail, it's great that you want to protect Chris. Really." Two years ago it was more than she would've ever thought the blonde capable… "But if it comes down to protecting Chris' feelings or Dov's, who are you going to choose?"

Judging by the other girl's expression it was supposed to be a 'gotcha' moment, but Gail's instinctive answer still would've been 'Chris.' As Traci (smugly) walked away with the pitcher and a glass, she grabbed her own glass from Liam and brandished it at him. "I blame _you_ , just so you know."

Liam put his arms up in surrender. "Whoa, what did I do?"

"Started this whole thing by dropping me off at his mom's." _Duh_.

"Uh…" Lowering his hands he proceeded to wipe down the bar top in front of her. "I know you probably don't remember much about that night but you _told_ me to." Not that he was naive enough to believe that would stop her from blaming him…

Gail gave a vehement shake of her head. "Okay, one: I don't think breaking into his house at 3am like some demented stalker was _my_ idea, and two: even if it _was_ , I was ludicrously drunk and it was your moral bartender duty to stop me from doing something stupid. Would you give a junkie a ride down to Moss Park just because they asked you nicely?"

"Okay, _one_ : you're drunk right now if you think you asked _nicely_ ," Liam teased, "And _two_ : do you realize you just compared yourself to an addict and him to your fix?"

She was nowhere _near_ drunk – having kept her wits about herself to be able to deal with Nick – which meant she was nowhere near pacified (or desperate) enough to be psychoanalyzed. "Take the night off, Doc. I was just saying you're an enabler."

Liam shrugged unapologetically. "Sorry – as long as I'm here the doctor is in." He was surprised that she didn't take that opportunity to flee, though he assumed it was less about wanting to talk and more about _not_ wanting to return to the table.

After a couple of minutes watching him fill orders and return in between to wipe down the same (sparkling) spot, Gail gave in with a sigh. "It's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

Taking back her glass he started to pull her a pint. "What do you mean?"

"Emotionally Chris was perfect for me," she narrated evenly, fingers tracing a knot in the wood. "Nothing bothered him, and if it _did_ he never said anything so I didn't have to care."

"That's…" Liam paused to measure his words. "…Not healthy. For either of you."

"I didn't say it was." In her defense she hadn't really realized it _wasn't_ until after her conversation with Ryan. "But it was comfortable. And safe. And what I was _used to_." Her life to that point a master class in avoidance: if you didn't talk about it, it didn't exist. "Pretending everything's fine even when it isn't."

Liam slid the full glass back to her; guessed, "And Dov doesn't let you do that."

"Nope." She downed half the tangy liquid in one go. "Not even a little."

Apparently that was a bad thing now… "I thought you liked that about him? That he forces you outside your comfort zone?"

Liking the _idea_ of it and being equipped to _handle it_ were two entirely different things. "I thought I could do it. But unlike Chris _everything_ bothers him and I'm apparently bound by some stupid girlfriend code to care about _all_ of it." Meeting his gaze she tacked on, "Or at least act like I do. Either way it's exhausting."

Leaning on the bar with his chin in his palm, Liam did his best to appear indifferent. "Are you regretting your decision?"

What? " _No_." Wish it could be easier? Yes. Hope eventually he'll learn to limit his freak-outs to things that actually warranted it? God, yes. But other than that… "We're good. It's just… we'd be _great_ if it was just us, away from everything and every _one_ else."

Liam hid his relief behind an amused, "Yeah – that's not how that works."

Didn't she know it… "Which means I'm screwed. I have to worry about Chris' feelings, and Dov's feelings _about_ Chris' feelings, and then _this_ asshole…" She jutted a thumb in Collins' direction. "…Strolls in here acting like he holds my title, so now I've got to worry about Dov's feelings about _that_ and Nick's feelings about _everything_ and it's a good thing Andy's not around because she'd be talking about _her_ feelings and I'd probably have to shoot myself."

Her palpable frustration with the situation was the only thing that kept Liam from laughing aloud at her rapid-fire summary. "I'm sensing a theme here."

Gail rolled her eyes at him. "I think we've already established that I'm allergic to feelings. I was so much better off when I could pretend no one had them." God, she missed those days…

Her perpetual poker face made it easy to forget she was still struggling to come to terms with her new normal. "You know that just because you've decided to finally acknowledge people _have_ them doesn't mean you're responsible for them, right?"

"No?" Lifting her hands Gail touched one index finger to the other. "My only friend feels like I've left him behind like his dead parents and shithead brother did." She made a show of moving the finger to the next in line as she counted them off. "My ex-boyfriend is faced daily with the reminder that I betrayed him with his best friend." And the next. "My current boyfriend finally has what he wants but is too busy jumping at shadows to actually enjoy it." Both hands moved to the bar where they rested in self-loathing fists. "I am _directly_ responsible."

Liam's lips pursed sympathetically. "I meant that you don't have to take them all on, Gail." Leave it to her to try to take it straight to 200 MPH her first time on the track…

"Great! So who do I vote off the island?" It bothered her to no end that she finally cared like everyone wanted and yet she'd somehow found a way to do it _wrong_ in their eyes.

Despite the snark Liam thought she _was_ looking for guidance. Unfortunately: "Only you can decide that."

Gail quirked a critical eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause apparently Traci thinks _she_ can. According to her my priorities should be Dov then Chris. Nick wouldn't even make the cut."

"You don't agree?" It was less a question than a request for confirmation.

"That Dov should automatically be first on the list because he's sharing my bed? _No_." The very idea was absurd.

Liam hesitated, trying to determine if maybe that was sarcasm. "It's a little bit deeper than just sharing your bed, Gail."

His disappointment was unmistakable even though he'd tried to mask it. "Look, Chris was legit wronged and he has the right to feel some type of way about it. Dov… Dov likes to 'borrow trouble,' as my mother would say; it's hard to take seriously after a while." Right or wrong, for Gail it was a merit-based system and Dov just didn't merit it.

"You think he's overreacting." Well, that didn't bode well…

That was one way to put it… "Let's just say he 'checked in' so many times today I started texting him first so I wouldn't have to fight the urge to throw my phone out the window. Or block his number." Whether it was because of the ride-along or Nick – or a stars-aligned compound effect of _both_ – it was hella annoying. "I guess I won't be winning any 'best girlfriend' awards any time soon, huh?" And she'd had a nice spot all picked out next to the one for 'Humanitarian of the Year' and everything…

Liam suspected she was downplaying her motives in texting him first – perhaps even to herself – but she was still a far cry from being wrong… "Okay, let me put it to you this way: what if the roles were reversed and you'd taken him from Sue?"

"Would never happen." Not because it was wrong; just because she would never have been looking for another emotional entanglement.

She kinda _had_ , albeit unintentionally… "Gail, the purpose of this exercise is to put yourself in _his_ shoes."

"Well, that's your mistake right there," she smirked, "I don't _do_ exercise." Also? His shoes were too small for her.

Ignoring her glibness – save for a roll of his eyes – Liam continued painting the picture. "She's around all the time and he doesn't want to act like you're dating to spare her feelings."

Gail put up a hand to stop him. "I didn't think this hypothetical could get any more far-fetched, but are we also pretending Sue is my best friend?"

"Sure." It didn't really make a difference either way – that wasn't the important part.

It didn't take much deliberation for Gail to shrug, "Then I'd hate having to restrain myself but it would only be around her so I'd deal."

"Close enough: he's bothered – for different reasons – but as far as I know he _is_ dealing." When she opened her mouth to protest, probably against his use of 'bothered,' Liam quickly went on. "Now imagine some girl from his past shows up and starts rubbing how close they are and how well she knows him in your face."

Gail gave her head a dangerous tilt. "Am I allowed to very un-gently rub my fist in _her_ face?"

Stifling a laugh Liam tapped her nose with a gentle finger. " _No_. Because you're not a violent person."

"I would be if I cared enough to expend the energy," she warned in a (maybe) playful growl.

He withdrew his digits before she could decide she _did_. "You're Dov, remember?" _Dov_ cared – maybe too much – but he wasn't violent. "And you know you can't say anything about her – or _them_ – because she's his oldest friend for God's sake and he already thinks you're paranoid and oversensitive. So all you _can_ do is shut your mouth and pray it _is_ just paranoia; keep reminding yourself that he loves you. But even that doesn't make you feel better because loving Sue didn't stop him from leaving _her_ , right?"

Gail stared at him, unblinking. "Dov never loved Sue."

Accurate or not… "Dov is _you_. You loved Chris." She was too smart (and sober) to be having that much trouble with the concept, though, and Liam could tell by the faintest tightening of her jaw that she wasn't happy her little attempt at deflection had failed.

She'd never _stopped_ loving Chris – just stopped pretending love could make up for everything else – but she wasn't willing to open up that can of worms, _even_ to change the subject… Taking a steadying breath she wondered, "Dov tell you all that?"

Liam shook his head. "He caught me up on the new guy while I was pulling their pitcher; my advanced degree in bartender psychology helped me out with the rest." Mostly from what _she'd_ just told him, but if she knew that she'd likely never open up to him again… "Am I that far off the mark?"

Knowing Dov – and as much as she'd hate to _admit_ it – probably not. "It's still…"

He put a hand in front of her mouth, offending her into silence, then confiscated her glass to indicate that they were done. "Just think about it, okay?"

Gail's lips fell into an indignant pout. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Something that doesn't apply to Dov, I'm sure." She didn't argue – just huffed under her breath – so he felt it safe to assume he was right. "He's not like you, Gail. He isn't allergic to feelings, is pretty much _incapable_ of acting like everything's fine when it isn't, and he _definitely_ wasn't blessed with an overabundance of self-confidence." Or as most people who knew her would call it: _arrogance_ … "If you want your relationship to stay 'good' then you need to accept that. If you want it to be _great_ then you're probably gonna need to factor it in when deciding your list."

Fan-fucking-tastic – instead of helping her knock people _off_ her list he'd just cemented Dov's spot _on_ it. _Good talk_ … Stealing her glass back she emptied it in one gulp. "You know this is why he thinks you're his Gail-whisperer, right? He's gonna keep coming to you every time he thinks we have a problem."

She'd started this conversation (and the last) all on her own, but as long as she was talking Liam didn't think Dov would mind taking the blame… "He already paid for a case of vodka to be set aside with your name on it."

There was a good chance it wasn't a joke but Gail laughed anyway, imagining an emergency box of Stolichnaya behind the bar with a tiny hammer and 'BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF GAIL-RELATED EMERGENCY' written across it in big red letters. "Sounds like he thinks he's gonna need your help a lot. Could be a whole new income stream for you."

Liam set her empty glass in the sink; chuckled, "You think I should start _charging_ him?"

Capitalism _did_ make the world go round. "Well, my company _should_ be its own reward but it can't buy you nice things. Why should you give your services away for free?"

Aside from the fact that he should probably be charging _her_ instead? "You know if I did that he'd go broke, right?" She (hopefully) couldn't get upset at the implication, having made it herself first.

Or, _conversely_ , "Maybe if he had to pay he'd think twice about whether or not it's a _real_ problem…" Certainly seemed like a win-win to her.

She was so pleased by her take that Liam had to teasingly shake his head. "There'd still be enough of _those_ to send him to the poor house. And that's even _without_ hazard pay."

Unable to dispute the first part, she spared the second a questioning eyebrow. "Hazard pay?"

At the risk of bringing Sue to mind again… "See, talking to you is kinda like disarming a bomb. With every snip of a wire there's a chance I set you off and you kill me."

Gail studied him, eyes narrowed, then slid off the stool with a shrugged, "Yeah – that's fair."

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 **Hope you enjoyed. Until next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so very sorry. I spent what time I had for writing on finishing another story and then I got distracted by a shiny new/old fandom. I will say that Gail is more fun to write than traditionally 'nice' characters...**

 **Picks up from where the last chapter ended i.e. at the Penny**

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Was this how Gail's life was going to be now, under the fascist regime of Consideration? Leaning against a barstool – pretending to struggle with her strappy heel – so she could consider her seating options? Normally she couldn't care less about where she sat or the message it would send (unless she'd _meant_ it as one, of course), but given recent conversations she figured she should probably navigate this minefield with a little more diplomacy than was her wont. So she could (and usually _would)_ pick the chair between Chris and Traci because it was closest and most accessible (and she was lazy), but that would only accommodate one of the three boys and look like putting Chris above Dov besides. She could cover _two_ by sitting on the bench between her boyfriend and Nick, but that would require getting one of them to let her in which was way more obvious than she was willing to be in her pandering. She could take Dov's place opposite Chris, but then he'd have to scoot in next to Nick which – besides _also_ being too obvious – would cut her off from the guy who knew no one in the group aside from her… Realizing she'd just spent more time debating this than she had what to wear to dinner, Gail straightened with a muttered, " _Fuck it_."

"You okay?" Dov asked when she (finally) rejoined them. "Problem with your shoes?"

" _Yes_ – they were invented purely to please men and torture women." Handing Chris her fresh glass, Gail stole a nearby chair and inserted it at the head of the table between him and Dov. Whatever else they wanted to take from the move, being entitled to pride of place was a message she could live with sending.

That little display told Nick all he needed to know about why Diaz would continue to be friends with the couple after everything that had gone down. He'd forgotten how good Gail was at managing those around her, making the guy feel included and needed and equally as important in one smooth fell swoop. Or maybe he'd just blocked it out of his memory for shame of the days he'd been so handily 'managed' himself…

Dov gave his girlfriend a teasing wink as she sat down. "Well, being uncomfortable is the price you pay for conforming to unfair societal expectations." She got no sympathy from him; he'd warned her not to pick those ones.

That was only _one_ of society's unfair expectations he should be grateful Gail was debasing herself to follow. He should _also_ be grateful she didn't use those symbols of female oppression to stab him for daring call her a conformist…

Spying the (barely perceptible) grimace that foretold of a possible murder, Traci distracted the blonde with a pointed, "What were you talking to Liam about for so long?"

"How much you suck," Gail sniped, accepting her (now-full) glass back from Chris to tip it at the girl. "We had a lot of ground to cover."

Traci was going to take the scorn to mean her obstinate friend had gone looking for a second opinion and hadn't gotten the one she'd wanted. _Good._

Catching the woman's eye, Nicked hooked a thumb at Gail. "You _choose_ to hang out with her?" Guys he understood (only too well), but _girls_?

"Oh, yeah," Traci smiled. "Hearing the crap that comes out of her mouth makes me appreciate my son so much more. At least he has the excuse of being eight."

"Ah, but he isn't _one third_ as entertaining as I am," Gail disputed with a shake of her head. "Sometimes you gotta crack a few egos to make a witty omelet…" Crossing her right leg over her left, she hooked her foot behind her boyfriend's knee. She would have done more if she could trust it not to be written all over his face.

Dov tightened his grip on his beer to avoid putting it to her instead.

"So, Nick," Chris opened innocently, "How did you manage to sneak into the Fortress of Solitude?"

"The what?" Was that some place in Afghanistan he'd been telling them about while she was with Liam?

"You know, Superman's nearly impenetrable secret base in the arctic?" Turning back to Nick, Chris jutted his chin not-so-subtly in her direction. "'Cause _Gail…_ "

It sounded like a euphemism for sex but Gail knew it wasn't, 'cause _Chris._

"That's actually pretty perfect," Nick chuckled after a moment.

Loathe as Dov was to agree with Collins… "A sneak attack really _is_ the only way to get close to you."

"You bragged to Andy about giving me hypothermia," was Traci's wry contribution.

Nick gave the blonde a charmed smile. "You _are_ heavily fortified."

"Okay, _alright_ ," Gail broke in before they could go another round. "You're all here defending it like it's a thesis and I wasn't even going to argue."

Thoroughly amused by her indignation, Nick couldn't help but give it another poke. "Not defending. _Admiring_ _its simple beauty._ "

Dov grinned knowingly at his girlfriend. "You're taking it as a compliment, aren't you?"

"Well, it _is_ kinda perfect," Gail allowed, holding her hand out to her ex.

Chris tapped his fist against hers. "I actually have a couple of those saved up."

"Oh?" One was permissible. _More_ than one was testing the limits of Gail's benevolence…

Preening like a proud mama, Traci clapped Chris on the arm. "Look at you, embracing your newfound independence." The ballsiness of waiting to say it in Gail's presence was the _only_ reason she'd forgive him for not using it when she'd been struggling to make small talk with a virtual stranger.

Gail rolled her eyes but said nothing; if it took bonding over how difficult she was for everyone to get along then they could have at it… "Well, Collins? Are you gonna answer or what?"

Her subtle smirk said she thought she'd enjoy his answer… "Well, Gail won't tell you this but she was in love with me from the moment she saw me. Followed me around like a little lost puppy."

" _Bullshit_." If anything it was the other way around. At least the last part. " _He_ doesn't want to tell you that my mom paid me to spend time with him."

"Seriously?" Dov gaped.

Traci gave an incredulous shake of her head. "Just when I think nothing about you could surprise me anymore…"

"What?" Not that she needed to justify herself, but, "He was annoying. All emo and ragey and 'boy behaving badly.' What the adults generously called 'troubled.'"

"I had _just_ lost my parents," Nick sighed.

"Which is why they called you 'troubled' and not what the rest of us did." 'The rest of us' being mostly her, of course.

" _Gail_ …" Chris groaned.

Nick had to laugh. "This may come as a shock to you guys, but Gail had zero sympathy for my tale of orphan woe. No slack cut _whatsoever_."

Sympathizing didn't mean treating him with kid gloves, and those that _had_ hadn't been doing him any favors. "Yeah, well, if I'd known calling you on your shit would get me a second shadow I would've made excuses for you like everyone else did."

The group erupted in a symphony of disbelieving scoffs.

"No, you wouldn't have," Nick stated matter-of-factly.

No, she wouldn't have.

"Besides, you're acting like I was some charity case when really your mom wanted someone to scale that 'super' wall you'd put up." Nick just hadn't needed to be bribed.

He'd never told her that before, and Gail didn't know if it was the truth or just an attempt to save face… "If that's the case she definitely would have paid you. You're just mad you didn't realize it."

"And you're just mad you never had the balls to act out," Nick teasingly countered.

Chris looked from Nick to Gail, mouth partially agape, predicting an explosion of near-biblical proportions.

"Yeah, well," Gail shrugged, plucking a cold fry from the basket on the table. "My mother wouldn't have been nearly as forgiving of _my_ transgressions as she was yours." The only allowances ever made for _her_ had been the monetary kind.

Nick grinned cockily. "True. But it's not my fault I can do no wrong in the Superintendent's eyes."

The guy's gaze cutting to him told Dov it was a jab at his own less than stellar relationship with Elaine. Turning back to his girlfriend he nodded in apparent support. "Yeah, Gail – he can't help his last name."

"Dov!" Traci barked, equal parts admonishment and surprised chuckle.

Nick didn't have to dig deep for an air of regret. "Actually, I wanted to keep my own name. But they thought I needed it to know I was a permanent part of the family and not one of their fosters."

Chris pursed his lips disapprovingly at Dov.

"Gail never cared about the name, though," Nick continued, more than happy to make take advantage of Epstein's error in judgment. "It was my persistence and boyish charms that finally won her over."

Gail's unimpressed eyebrow shifted from her boyfriend to her [only] childhood friend.

Traci could see why Gail and Nick got along so well, both having clearly mastered the art of inflicting a great deal of damage with the most innocuous-seeming of statements. Despite Dov's blank expression, she knew that that one had to have hit particularly close to home.

Apparently 'getting along' was a thing of the past, and even though Dov had technically fired the opening salvo, Gail wasn't about to let Nick use _their_ past as a weapon… "Please… The only reason I stopped taking my mother's money was because I knew better than to implicate her in prostitution."

And here Dov had thought it would take truth serum to get any info out of her…

That blow had _definitely_ landed, if Dov's flinch was anything to go by… Traci could appreciate what Gail had been trying to do (in her typical colorful 'Gail' fashion), but still: "You could have made your point less graphically, you know."

"A for effort, babe," Nick agreed, lifting his beer in mock salute. "F for execution." For Epstein, anyway; for him the friendly fire had worked out _great_.

In hindsight Gail probably could've been more careful with her words… She ran the top of her foot up and down her boyfriend's calf in tacit apology.

Catching on, Chris cast Dov a sympathetic glance. Personally the blonde's history had never bothered him but he knew it did his best friend… "So what made you decide to become a cop, Nick? Putting those army skills to good use?"

It was becoming increasingly obvious that Diaz was uncomfortable with conflict of any kind, making Nick wonder what had possessed _him_ to become a cop… "Joining the force was always the plan – I just got sidetracked for a bit."

Gail scoffed at his attempt to pass six years off as 'a bit.'

Nick didn't need to hear it to know _exactly_ what was running through her mind; couldn't resist _really_ winding her up… "The Chief doesn't have any sons so he kinda took me under his wing. I figured there were worse things I could do than follow in his footsteps."

" _Right_ ," Gail drawled dangerously. "So it had nothing to do with the promise you made me?"

 _So easy…_ "Maybe…" After a brief pause Nick allowed a ghost of a smile play across his lips. "But if I'd said that you would've just found some way to use it against me." Likely by mocking him for having made it in the first place…

Dov refrained from asking _what promise_ ; wondered if he was alone in thinking his girlfriend seemed a tad too invested in the guy's motivations.

Too late Gail realized she'd played right into Nick's hands. That she might as well have rolled over and exposed her smooth underbelly… "Whatever. I considered that promise broken a long time ago, anyway."

"And there it is!" Nick announced with a self-satisfied chuckle, her sad attempt at damage control only made sweeter by Epstein's furrowed brow.

It wasn't enough for Traci to want to keep Collins around, but watching their resident Bobby Fischer get checkmated at her own game sure made for an enjoyable Saturday night.

Chris shook his head, amused. "I guess Gail hasn't changed at all, huh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Feeling the weight of the blonde's stare, Nick turned to meet it as he spoke. "For one thing, we wouldn't be here with you guys right now."

"Really?" It seemed a harmless enough remark about her unexpected tolerance for people but Gail saw right through it. Though she supposed she was _meant_ to…

Dov took his girlfriend's reaction to mean he hadn't imagined the intentional use of 'we' or the implication that _they_ would have been off doing _something else_ instead. In the process of taking a drink, he casually paused with his mug at his lips. "I guess being _alone_ just doesn't appeal to her the way it used to."

Traci's eyes widened and she almost choked on her mouthful of beer.

"Or maybe without me around she just got used to settling for whatever _company_ was available," Nick volleyed effortlessly, tone light but with every intention to wound.

'She' was sitting right there, and 'she' had less than negative interest in letting this testosterone-fueled territorial bullshit continue. "Should I ask Liam to borrow a measuring tape or do you two wanna just do a side-by-side comparison?"

Chris let out the breath he'd been holding, happy for the intervention.

It was nice of her to want to save her boyfriend the embarrassment of not having a comeback but Nick wasn't about to let the guy off that easy. Especially not when she'd just handed him his next attack on a silver platter: "You could save us some time and just tell us…"

Dov's concerned gaze flitted to his best friend, the sharp reminder that he himself wasn't the first also indirect confirmation that Chris wasn't the _last_.

Any possibility of Gail letting _that_ one go disintegrated the second she saw the pained look on Chris' face. Jaw clenched, she noisily pushed her chair back from the table. "With me. Over there. _Now_."

"What?" Nick blinked in surprise. "Why?"

Gail walked away without answering.

Apparently Collins hadn't gotten the memo that messing with Chris – even unintentionally – was one of the few hard lines the blonde _had_ ; he seemed genuinely taken aback by how quickly she'd gone from mildly aggravated to eerily cold and Traci almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_.

After a brief internal debate, Nick sighed and began to follow.

Dov let out a low whistle as Collins joined Gail by the dart boards (and sadly out of earshot). "I wouldn't want to be him right now."

If Traci knew Gail – and she liked to think she _did_ – there was no way Dov was getting away without a talking-to of his own; he'd just been smart enough to avoid the button that triggered immediate detonation. She'd let him keep that false sense of security, though, because right now she had a show to watch.

"He's trying to joke his way out of it," Dov narrated, partly for Chris who hadn't turned to the drama, and partly out of disbelief.

"Bad idea…" It wasn't Chris' go-to method but even he knew: "That only works to maybe a three. She's _at least_ at a four."

Recalling the slap he'd gotten for attempting it after the meth house, Dov would have to agree.

Nick seemed to have realized that because he'd switched tacks, though Traci could have told him this one wasn't much better… "Now he's arguing with her."

Dov shook his head, bemused. She didn't want to hear excuses; she wanted you to admit you were an idiot and maybe grovel a little. Or _a lot,_ depending on how badly you'd screwed up. For someone who knew her so well… "You would think he'd know he's only making it worse."

"Oh, he knows." Traci was sure of it. "But a guy like that? His ego won't let him back down."

"You've never been caught with Gail in the middle of one of _those_ ," Dov waved at the gesticulating pair. "Ego shrivels up and dies when she's looking at you like that."

Chris glanced over his shoulder to see for himself; nodded his somber agreement.

"I don't know," Traci demurred. "Guy's got _a lot_ of ego."

Well, Dov couldn't disagree there… And it seemed to bear fruit because another tense minute passed before Nick apparently said something _especially_ stupid, Gail's lips thinning and her hands moving to her hips. "Uh-oh."

Traci snickered. "That is such a 'mom' move."

Curiosity piqued, Chris shifted in his chair so he could watch, too.

" _Finish him!_ " Dov 'ordered' in his best Shao Khan voice.

What Traci wouldn't give to have ears on the ground right now, with Collins' shoulders (finally) slumping in defeat and his expression contrite. "She's gonna cave to the puppy dog eyes, isn't she?"

"She always does." For a renowned hard-ass Gail was ridiculously easy to disarm, and while Dov was normally grateful for it…

" _No, girl,_ " Traci urged as though the faltering blonde could hear her. When Gail's posture relaxed completely just moments later, she turned back in her seat with a groan. "Remind me to teach her how to stand strong against little boys trying to get out of trouble."

Chris and Dov gave her matching 'Why would I want to do that?' looks just as the pair rejoined them.

"I'm gonna call it a night, guys," Nick told them on approach, tossing a couple of bills on the table. "Last round was on me."

Gail looked from him to the others. "Can one of you give him a lift back to the barn to get his bike? I drove us here."

Putting down his now-empty mug, Chris stood and retrieved his coat. "I'll take him." He didn't know the guy well enough to send him off with Traci, and he knew all _too_ well how it felt to have Gail mad at you.

Nick nodded his thanks.

"I'm gonna take off, too." Traci sought out the blonde's gaze then glanced pointedly to Dov. "See you around, Collins. See the rest of you tomorrow."

Accepting his own coat from Gail, Nick pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "You know where to find me if you want to."

They all exchanged goodbyes, and as soon as Gail and Dov were alone she dropped onto the bench beside him.

He leaned in until their shoulders met. "You okay?"

Gail reclaimed her glass and took a deep pull before muttering, "It's been a long day."

That wasn't a 'yes' which made it a 'no' by default. "You can just drop me at my mom's if you want. Or I can grab a cab."

"What? No." Tempted as she was to take him up on that offer, there were myriad reasons why she _shouldn't_. For one thing: "I didn't keep this outfit on all night for nothing."

As much as Dov appreciated the sentiment, he could tell her heart wasn't it. Shifting to sit sideways facing her, he ran a hand down her arm. "Talk to me."

Gail rested her elbows on the table and stared into her beer. "I'm just…" Today had been such a whirlwind that she was still processing; hadn't gotten much further than: "He's different."

"It's been five years," Dov reasoned with a shrug. "So are you."

"Yeah, but most people would say I've changed for the _better_." Her and her mother being the notable exceptions… "He _hasn't_. He's darker; more mean." More _like_ her.

The guy seemed pretty adept at it so Dov would just have to take her word on that. "I mean, he went to war – I would guess that's pretty normal."

"Yeah?" Gail tilted her head towards him, eyebrow raised in challenge. "So what's _your_ excuse?"

"What do you mean?" He knew _exactly_ what she meant; was busy trying to figure out if it had been a set-up or she'd just taken the opening he'd foolishly given her. Not that it mattered.

"Are you really gonna sit there and play like you _didn't_ start both those little pissing contests?" Surely he couldn't think she hadn't noticed. Or wouldn't say anything about it.

Okay, even if he'd misinterpreted the thing about Elaine, which he didn't think he _had_ , "You _know_ he started the last one." He'd taken his cue _from_ her, for God's sake.

"He started with _me_ ," she corrected, not bothering to hide her exasperation. "Trying to get a rise out of me. You made yourself fair game by taking the bait instead." Nick was right about one thing: she couldn't blame him for engaging when Dov was the one throwing the first punches.

 _Fair game?_ "Is that why you jumped in? Because you didn't think I could hold my own?"

Gail resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his (misplaced) indignation. "Dov, twice you took shots at him and twice he sent them right back at you like Barf with the pipes." Realizing she'd just referenced _Spaceballs_ she _did_ roll her eyes. At _herself_. Oh, how the mighty had fallen…

" _Thanks_." Dov didn't know what was worse: that she'd thought he needed saving or that she was using one of his favorite movies to insult him.

The wounded pout struck a chord the indignation hadn't, and she linked her fingers with his. "That's not a bad thing, Dov. It just means you aren't willing to hit as hard as we are."

His reaction to her use of 'we' was visceral. "Why are you lumping yourself in with him?"

 _Uh…_ "I'm not sure if you've noticed but I can be a real bitch sometimes. That was _tame_ compared to how nasty I get when provoked." When she gave up on subtext and went straight for the jugular… Or had he just forgotten since he was now (mostly) exempt?

She wasn't lying, but Dov would be if he said he wasn't suddenly worried she'd already _had_ a preferred sparring partner and he'd just been filling the position until Collins got back.

Gail could tell he didn't particularly care for the reminder. "All I'm saying is let me handle him; if he needs to be put in his place I'm better equipped to do it." She had more material to draw from and it would actually _mean_ something… "Eventually he'll get used to having to share me with you guys."

Dov really didn't think the problem was _them,_ plural, and he doubted she was talking 'professionally.' "You're planning on seeing him…" It was less surprise than disappointment.

"Dov, I'm not going to just cut him out of my life. Even if I wanted to, in less than two months he'll be working with us." Not to mention they were connected by their families.

Translation: she _didn't_ want to… "You cut _me_ out and I didn't abandon you for five years…" It hardly seemed fair.

Gail felt her hackles rise at his tone; tempered them by revisiting what Liam had said. "You know I cut you out because I was trying not to love you, right?" Quirking an eyebrow, she freed her hand to put it to his cheek. "Maybe _wanting_ me to be pushing him away isn't the smartest idea?"

Okay, so deductive reasoning had fallen prey to panicked insecurity… Eliminating the space between them, he draped an arm over her stomach and buried his nose in her neck with a sigh.

" _Hey_ …" She played with his hair for a bit before using it to ease him away. "You have nothing to worry about, okay? Nick and I have only ever been friends. Sometimes the 'with benefits' kind, but that's it."

It was on the tip of Dov's tongue to ask if _Nick_ knew that but he swallowed it, not wanting to kick off an argument when he was just starting to feel better about the whole thing. Holding her eyes, he captured her wrist and brought it around to brush his lips across her pulse point. "I love you."

He _never_ said it first – didn't want her to feel pressured, she knew – and she realized he was telling her that _that_ was his excuse; realized it was his way of saying he was afraid of losing her because he was afraid saying the _actual words_ would annoy her. That despite her best intentions, though probably not her best _efforts_ , she'd still managed to take his emotions hostage…

"You don't have to say it back," he muttered against her skin, sensing her discomfort. "I was just…"

Gail used her captive hand as a muzzle as she turned to face him. Forcing down her walls, she spoke deliberately. _Sincerely_. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere. Understand?"

Dov nodded; released the breath he hadn't been aware of holding into her palm.

"Good. Now…" Running her thumb over his bottom lip, she gave him a wicked grin. "I believe you have a dress to pull off…"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Hope it was somewhat worth the wait. I promise it won't be quite so long for the next chapter.**


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